Consequences
by wiccafaith
Summary: AU from 1x13 - Veronica exonerates Lincoln but Michael is still left inside with threats from the others who still want out and his on-coming depression as be realises that if he wants his family he has to stay in jail for the next five years.
1. Chapter 1

Fandom: Prison Break

Title: Consequences

Characters: Michael Scofield, Lincoln Burrows, Veronica Donovan, LJ Burrows, Theodore Bagwell, Fernando Sucre, Nika Volek

Warnings: Angst, rape, suicide, depression

Summary:

_And everything I can't remember – as fucked up as it all my seem – __**consequences **__that I've rendered – I've gone and fucked up things again _(Stained; It's Been A While)

_VERONICA: I found someone who's gonna talk._

_LINCOLN: Who?_

_VERONICA: I don't know, but he knows things. I'm gonna go and meet him in a few hours._

_LINCOLN: A few hours is cutting it close, V._

_VERONICA: We don't have any other choice. You have to have faith, okay? Nick's already primed the court to hear our case. Whatever Michael's doing, he doesn't need to do it now. We're gonna beat this thing the right way._

_LINCOLN: What if you're wrong?_

_VERONICA: I'm not._

(1x13, End of the Tunnel)

And she hadn't been. Hale had supplied Veronica with a list of everyone involved in framing Lincoln for Terrance Steadman's murder. With that list the discovery of The Company meant that Agent Don Self of homeland Security was working to bring down the Company along with former employee James Whistler and – surprisingly enough – Linc and Michael's own father Aldo Burrows. Veronica and Nick Savrinn took Lincoln's case to court and he was exonerated a mere eight hours before his scheduled execution. LJ was forced to turn himself in, but with this new information surrounding Paul Kellerman it looked likely that Veronica could get him out of jail time.

While Veronica and Lincoln spent most of their time trying to get LJ out of jail, Michael was still in prison. After all he had still committed a crime; and with twenty-odd witnesses and being caught red handed it was clear he was guilty. So he had another five years to spend in Fox River. Unless he still planned to escape.

"You… me… the guys… we are still getting out of here, right? I mean, just because Linc has been exonerated doesn't mean we haven't all got things to get back to in the real world. You know what I'm saying, _Papi_?" Fernando Sucre said to his cellmate Michael Scofield as they waited for PI to be called. Only a few hours ago Lincoln had been exonerated and had left Fox River a free man, only to return as a visitor. And Michael couldn't have been happier. It meant no more lying, hiding, deceiving, planning, plotting, sweating, and it also meant that Lincoln could make a home with the woman he had loved for thirty years and his son. Well, as soon as LJ's name was cleared of the double homicide and attempted murder charged. However now the adrenaline rush had worn off Michael realised what this meant as far as he was concerned. Five more years locked up. Five more years of daily abuse, regulated 'me' time, of showers with twenty other men, of not being able to see friends and family or call them whenever he wanted to. Michael had put his blood into this; literally, and now he was left in prison while his brother was a free man. Depression was setting in for Michael, he no longer had a plan. All he knew was that he would not be escaping Fox River – no way was he going on the run solo and being estranged from his family and home for the rest of his likely-to-be short life. And that meant neither was anyone else inside these walls. Especially not the likes of T-Bag and Abruzzi.

And that was exactly what he told them all in PI.

"Fuck you, Snowflake!" Laughed C-Note in a way that indicated he found absolutely nothing funny about this situation. "You don't run this show and no way are you gonna rat on us, because A) we can make the rest of your time in here living Hell, and B) no way are you gonna volunteer another ten years on your bid. Fifteen years? No way. You wouldn't survive one."

"I hate to admit it but my coloured comrade here has a point. We all know the plan – and we all agreed to get it done. So the fact that Pretty here is willing to die in here like scum doesn't mean I am. I want out. And as far as I am concerned I am getting out!" T-Bag told them all, glaring in a way that would have made small children run in fear for their lives.

"I agree. I'm getting out." Abruzzi declared.

"Me too, Papi." Sucre added. "Sorry, Michael, but I have a baby on the way and Maricruz is about to marry my _pendejo_ of a cousin. I can't let that happen! I need to be out, yesterday!"

"You all want out, I get it. But still; none of you are getting out. I mean to see to that. We are all in here because we deserve to me. We have all done things which we need to atone for. Murder, robbery, kidnap… I cannot in all good conscience let you out into the world." Michael said, wishing they understood what he was trying to say. He felt bad about Sucre, especially after he had gotten the guy in trouble enough for the Bulls to revoke his conjugals. But if Sucre stayed inside for another fifteen months then he would be out before his son or daughter was six months old and he could still be in his/her life. And nothing was set in stone about Maricruz and Hector's wedding.

But Michael had underestimated the other prisoners need to get out. C-Note and T-Bag were shaking their heads while John stood there with a hammer in his hand looking threatening. "You gonna stop us, Fish?" Abruzzi asked.

"I am." Michael said calmly.

Sucre looked nervously from the violent criminals to Michael. Prison hadn't touched him. And that was a bad thing because it meant he had no idea the ways in which prison could break a man. Try spending a month in a lockdown, or three weeks in the SHU, or three years on nothing but prison food and con's for company, of even three hours as one of the black guys in the gang's cellmate. Michael had been living the high life since he arrived; getting a place on PI so quickly, getting Sucre as a cellmate, being able to spend time earning Pope's trust and Dr Tancredi's. But that could be taken in the blink of an eye.

"Look. We are all escaping this home of Satan and if you ain't coming along then you best get out of our way." T-Bag said.

"Request a cell transfer. And quit PI. That way maybe you have a chance of not getting extra time. But if you try to stop us we will make you a bloody mess. Me cutting your toes off will feel like a trip to Disneyland on E in comparison to what I will do to you." Abruzzi threatened. Michael looked around at the faces of these people and saw monsters in their stead. Only Sucre remained human as he shook his head in apology.

"Fine." Michael ground out as he threw down his tool and stormed out of the room. "Take me back to my cell, Guard." He asked and the guard through him a puzzled look before complying.

That afternoon while he was in Pope's office completing the final touches to the Taj that Pope had him working on for his wife's anniversary he asked if he would be allowed to request a transfer as thanks for all of his hard work. Pope had been confused believing that Sucre and Michael were a good match but after reminding Scofield that Brad Bellick was in charge of cell reassignments he agreed to see what could be done. That night he didn't sleep a wink as he worried about what would happen to him once the others escaped, and who his new cellmate would be, and what he was gonna do for the next five years.

Bellick came to see him the next day shortly before PI was due to begin. He told Michael to pack his stuff up because he was being shoved up to cell twenty nine. After an initial look of relief and sorrow on Sucre's face, a strong hand reached out to grab Michael as he was leaving.

"Cell 29! That's T-Bag's cell!" Sucre told him in hushed panicked tones. Everyone who had been in the yard that first day that Michael had been here knew of T-Bag's unsavoury desires for Michael. And the PI team knew that the only reason T-Bag hadn't gotten around to acting on those desires was because he had needed Michael to get him out. Now that was no longer an issue and Michael was being moved into the same cell as the paedophile there was little hope that Michael would last the night intact.

"Move it along, Scofield!" Bellick roared and shoved the man forward. In Michael's head the words 'it's only for one night, it's only for one night' kept spinning around in his head making him more nauseous than he already had been. When he arrived outside cell 29 there was T-Bag with a Cheshire cat grin and an evil glint to his eyes.

"Hello, Pretty." He said. Luckily for Michael PI was called not a second later and Michael sat on his new bed while T-Bag ambled out of the cell. Dread filled Michael's stomach and he threw up into the toilet. Bellick watched in disgust.

"No PI for you today, Scofield," he told the man believing it would punish him and be better for him if he really was sick. What he didn't realise was that this was exactly what Michael wanted and he lay back on his new bed and fell asleep, knowing it would be the only sleep he got that day.


	2. Chapter 2

It was so good to sleep! Michael let all of his worries, fears and pain drift away as he slept solidly for six hours until lights out at ten pm. While he lay there surrounded by the sounds of the prison he dreamed of happier times; of his eighth birthday when his mom had made him a birthday cake and Veronica and Lincoln had been there with him. He dreamed about his first kiss with Kate Lewis and of his night out after graduating from Layola; alcohol, women, and friends. Warm memories that made him feel a little less like finding the nearest shank and falling upon the blade.

That was until he was rudely awoken at approximately ten-fifteen by the feeling of a hard male body pressing down upon his own. Michael was panicked knowing it must be T-Bag and he screamed on instinct however T-Bag's hand quickly covered his mouth while he made 'shushing' sounds to calm Michael down.

Using techniques taught to him by his therapist Michael calmed himself and tried to block out the uncomfortable hardness of T-Bag's arousal as it pressed into Michael's abdomen. Instead he looked around the room, noticing how dark it was and that the sheet was hung up. Eventually he had no choice but to look at T-Bag again and now he saw a shank in the older man's hands. Michael's panic returned and he tried bucking to get the man of him and twisting away from him but T-Bag's grip held.

"Now, now, Pretty. Don't want you to hurt yourself. Just calm on right down and this will go easy for you. But if you keep struggling like that I'm just gonna be forced to take violent measures to ensure your co-operation. See while your big brother was in here and when you were the mastermind of our escape you were guaranteed some protection, now the Sink's gone and gotten himself exonerated you are left here all alone at my mercy. And you had better pray that I be feeling merciful, Pretty, because you have led me on a merry chase and I'm not in the mood for no more running around. Y'hear me?" T-Bag asked, his Alabama accent even more pronounced as he whispered in the night.

Michael nodded against the rough palm and T-Bag grinned. "Now shut the hell up so we can get on with this. Besides, I'm gone tomorrow this is my last chance and I'm gonna make it worth every bit of pain and frustration you have caused me, Michael Scofield."

Michael held on to those words 'gone tomorrow' as he felt the paedophile violate and take his disgusting pleasure from his body. By morning Michael was bruised and bloody but not visibly wounded anywhere that couldn't be covered up by his long sleeved tee and trousers. T-Bag left the cell with a smile that let the whole prison know what he had been up to last night – as if they hadn't already hard Michael's soft pleases for him to 'stop' and T-Bag's satisfied groans and grunts. Michael limped his way to the Mess after Bellick had threatened to take him to see Sara if he was so 'ill' he couldn't leave his cell, and Sucre wouldn't meet his eyes when they found themselves in the cue together.

But Michael made sure to stop in front of Cell 40 after breakfast to say "no hard feelings, Sucre. I really do wish you the best." Before making his way over to cell 29. Thankfully T-Bag was having a shower that morning so Michael knew he had about half an hour before he would have to face the man Then there was visitation and Veronica and Lincoln had promised to come see him – a sort of 'we won't forget you even though you are stuck rotting in jail' kind of visit. But at least the two hours would give him a break from Gen Pop. After that it would be an hour to wait before a visit to see Sara – Dr Tancredi – for insulin (even though he didn't need it he could hardly stop now she believed he had diabetes) and then only a few hours until PI and he would be rid of T-Bag and C-Note and Abruzzi forever. Unless they got caught.

When Michael arrived in the visitation room he saw only Veronica sitting there with no sign of Lincoln. Michael squashed his disappointment and went to sit down next to V. He gave her a hug and they parted, V sitting with legs crossed and her palms flat on the table as a sign of her determination not to exhibit any body language but just by looking into her emotive eyes Michael could tell she had bad news, news which she knew he would no react well to.

"Hey, Veronica, you look good." He said despite the fact he had seen her yesterday – albeit from afar as she picked up Lincoln after he had been released.

"Well Linc's been looking after me." She said, a genuine smile graced her face. "How are you holding up?" She asked, concern wiping the dreaming smile away.

"Fine. Good. I actually slept yesterday. It's been a while since I've slept that well. Now my… plans have changed." Michael said, gently letting her know he had called off the escape. He knew that she had had an inkling of his plans and he figured Lincoln must have filled her in on the rest when relief swept through her eyes.

"That's' good, Michael, really good. I'm glad." She reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezing tight.

"V… where…. Where is my brother?" Michael asked, looking at their hands instead of in her eyes.

Veronica blinked away the moisture in her eyes. "Um, he couldn't make it today. He's with LJ. You know because his hearing is in a few days and he wanted some time together before to prepare him. Uh, he said to say hi for him and he sends his love. He might be by next week after LJ's hearing." Veronica had spent almost two hours arguing with Lincoln and trying to persuade him to come and see his brother. After everything Michael had put himself through; all in the name of brotherly love, he surely deserved that. But Lincoln wouldn't come and Veronica wasn't sure if it was out of a genuine desire to spend as much time with his son as possible (not that V was doubting Linc's love for LJ just that he was already devoting every waking hour to LJ, it would hardly kill him to spend an hour with Michael!) or fear because of all the pain and suffering that he associated with Fox River. But whatever the reason she knew it wasn't because of Michael, Lincoln still loved his brother and Veronica just wished she could make Michael believe that but when she looked into his blue eyes all she saw reflecting back at her was a boy who had been abandoned by loved ones too often to have any self-worth or faith left. Having Lincoln exonerated must feel like being abandoned all over again.

"I understand," Michael said softly, "it can't be an easy task to walk back into the prison that almost took your life just the day before. I'll see him next week. Tell LJ 'good luck' and I love him, will you?" Michael asked and Veronica nodded. He left no message for Lincoln.

The hour passed away with news about LJ and his trial, about the agent working on exposing the Company and about Veronica who admitted she had big hopes for her and Lincoln now he was a free man. Soon enough Veronica was gone leaving Michael feeling hollow. The time between visitation and his visit to see Dr Tancredi passed without Michael noticing and suddenly he was sat on a 'bed' face to face with Sara who was dabbing at his arm in preparation for an insulin shot.

"Michael? Michael?" Her voice sounded like it was coming from far away but it broke him out of his head where he seemed to have withdrawn from the world.

"Yeah?" He asked and allowed his eyes to be drawn to what Sara was looking at. It seemed that T-Bag hadn't been as careful as Michael had though he had and had cut his arm in a jagged shape that kind of resembled a 'P'. P for Pretty. P for prison. P for Property.

Michael looked away from the mark. It wasn't a deep wound and Michael didn't know why Sara was looking so concerned.

She got up and brought more cotton wool over and cleaned the wound. "You're gonna get yourself killed in here if you aren't more careful." She said – almost tearfully.

Michael looked away from her. "I know." He said, his voice flat.

The hours passed in a daze for Michael until the call fro PI came and he refused to answer. Bellick started to drag him out telling him he couldn't pick and chose when he felt like working or not, so he did went. He followed the others out into the shed and watched with guilt making his heart heavy as they uncovered the hole and prepared to leave. One more time he tried to stop them, appealing to their better nature. But if they had had a 'better nature' before prison, it was certainly gone by now.

"I told you long time ago, Fish, what would happen to you if you tried to get between me and me getting out of here." Abruzzi said.

"Hey – wait a sec, I mean –" Sucre babbled as Abruzzi closed in on Michael, who opened his mouth to shout for the guards. Unfortunately he hadn't seen C-Note sneaking up behind him and this gave the black man a chance to gag him with his hand.

"Go and keep watch, Sucre." Abruzzi ordered and threw the Puerto Rican man out. T-Bag swaggered back inside and all three of the men started in on Michael – however reluctantly C-Note joined in – punching and kicking until Michael spat blood onto the floor and fell down, unconscious.

"""

When he woke up it was to Sara's voice telling him he was going to be alright and blinding pain in his side where one of them had cracked his rib. The alarm was blaring making his head feel as if it was going to split open. He threw-up on the floor near Sara's feet and lay back down, welcoming the darkness and oblivion.

"""

"You have got to understand how bad this looks, Dr Tancredi!" The sound of the Warden's voice lured Michael back into the realm of the living. It must have been hours after the attack. It was dark outside and the alarm – which he was eighty percent sure hadn't been a hallucination – had stopped. The pain in his side, in his head, and elsewhere had quieted to a throbbing thanks to a variety of drugs that Sara had pumped him full of. For that he was truly grateful. However the side effect was that he felt drowsy and numb, unable to move or talk yet.

"Warden, with all due respect he was beaten bloody until he was unconscious. He obviously was planning on stopping the others from escaping, not joining them!" Sara argued on his behalf.

"Well, that really isn't for you to say now is it, Sara? Just let the CO's and the FBI do the investigating and you patch him up." Warden Pope told Sara.

"""

Twenty-four hours later Michael – who could now stand on his own two feet by himself – was stood in front of Pope's desk hearing the outcome of the initial investigation.

"Now obviously this is just the preliminary findings but at the moment it looks like you knew about the escape and probably helped if not orchestrated it yourself. After all the hole was found in your old cell and in the room where you were working PI so you must have known about it. And if you want my opinion then you are the only one with any intelligence to pull this off in the first place! Which is not praise, believe me. After all, I trusted you Michael, and not only have you made me look a fool but you have also allowed three prisoners to walk free!" Pope finished, his volume had risen so he had practically yelled the last sentence. His face was red and his eyes cold.

"Three?" Michael questioned, hoping Sucre had had the sense to back out before it had been too late.

"Yes. John Abruzzi, Benjamin Christopher Franklin, and Fernando Sucre made it passed the boarder of Illinois. Theodore Bagwell was apprehended just a mile out of Joliet after having been beaten himself. But they aren't important right now. They are the FBI's problem now. You are my problem. You must realise how serious the situation is, Michael. The best you can hope for in this case is that they don't add more than ten years to your sentence. And even if that is all that the judge sees fit to add then there is still the fact you will have to serve fifteen years. Fifteen years for a man like you in a place like this will not be easy. I understand from Dr Tancredi's report that you have already suffered at the hands of other prisoners; beaten and raped, and they were the ones you thought you could trust! You may even jet transferred to another facility. After all you tries to escape once, nothing to say you won't do it again! But until your trial is called I am sending you to the SHU. I have to tell you Michael I am really disappointed in you."

Once Michael had been literally dragged off to solitary and shut away inside that dark cell the true meaning of the last forty-eight hours sunk in.

_Escapees… raped… Sara knew… beaten… Linc free… fifteen years… unable to get visitors… Linc hadn't wanted to see him… T-Bag was still in Fox River… Sucre on the run… Abruzzi free to terrorise more individuals… Linc hadn't wanted to see him… LJ on trial for murder… Veronica with Lincoln now… Michael still in Fox River… Possible transfer… Transfer away from Lincoln, giving him even more of an excuse to forget Michael…_

"I put my blood into this."

He reached to his arm – the P shape burned his flesh – he reopened the wound making it deeper.

"I put my blood into this."

He felt around and finally found his way deep enough into his skin to reach at the black pill he had hidden in his skin. He took it out and swallowed it quickly. It wouldn't kill him but added to asphyxiation and the Pugnac he had been taking to fake Diabetes, it would do the trick. He ripped his shirt of and tied it around his neck pulling tight as he started to jerk with the affects of the pill.

"I put my blood into this." He said, before the pain receded and he slipped away.


	3. Chapter 3

Consequences 3

The next thing Michael remembers is hearing Sara's voice when he wakes in the infirmary three days later. He is told that he was rushed to a near by hospital and treated there and he thinks about how it is a shame that how – if he had to wake up at all – it had to be in side the prison. He wished he had seen the hospital – it would have been a glimpse of the outside world – something he wouldn't be seeing for another fifteen years if memory served him right. Maybe even longer.

"Michael? Michael can you hear me?" Sara said, in full doctor mode except for the slight edge of panic in her voice.

"Yeah-" Michael rasped out, his throat ached and burned, his stomach feeling empty and hollow and he felt like he hadn't spoken in months instead of just a few days.

Sara instinctively handed him a glass of water, explaining, "they had to pump your stomach. That is why you are in pain. The physical pain anyway. Michael… why? Why did you do it? Why that day? Why couldn't you have talked to me? I thought we had a connection. I want to help you Michael." She said, her brown eyes not wavering from his face and Michael reflected how brave she was – to confront these issues head on instead of ignoring them like most people would.

"I know Sara. I'm just not sure I can be helped."

Sara got up and left the room and Michael watched the familiar sight of a guard moving to let her pass before returning to his post.

___

The Warden came to visit him. To tell him that an FBI agent by the name of Alexander Mahone was investigating the 'Fox River Four' and would need to talk to Michael.

"Why?"

"Because you can help, son." Pope told him sadly before leaving.

___

Sara returned eventually. She would have to as it was her infirmary.

"Do you want to talk?" She asked tightly, on defensive and in a bad mood but her desires to help over riding this.

"You must have talked to Pope." Michael said, surprising her. She gave a tight nod.

"Then you know why that day." He replied, answering on eof her earlier questions cryptically.

"Because you didn't escape?" She wanted to clarify.

She didn't think he would answer and for a long time they just stayed as they were, Michael staring blankly out at the wall from his place on the bed and Sara watching him, waiting for him. "No," he finally said, "because _they_ escaped."

He turned to her, his eyes wide, young, and earnest. "It was never meant to go down like that. I never meant or them to get out… for T-Bag to get out anyway – although I guess I should be thankful he isn't in the world but he is in gen pop and so will I be. I never meant to stay here. Not for five years. I thought a month, survive one month and I can save Lincoln. Now he doesn't need saving and I do but just like when we were kids and he would end up in juvey except I'm the one inside!"

"Michael. Lincoln hasn't abandoned you." Sara tried to reason with him but he was hysterical, out of him mind trying to convince her, tears running down his face just like the day his toes had been cut off. He started to struggle and get violent as Sara held him down and called for the guards to restrain him as she injected him with a sedative. He went limp and she turned away.

___

"I need you to be honest with me. I can only help if you let me." Sara told him after the sedative wore off.

Michael nodded even though he did not believe he could be helped. "What do you want to know?"

She took her time in answering, not having expected his acceptance. "What happened to your toes?" she asked, throwing him off balance a bit.

"Abruzzi." Michael said shortly.

"Was it worth it?" Sara asked.

"Yes. He took two of my shoes but I got on PI. And protection from T-Bag. For whatever that was worth considering how things turned out." Michael said bitterly, his enigmatic eye clouding over.

"Did T-Bag rape you when you tried to stop the escape?"

Michael stared at the grill that had been used to facilitate the escape. It was a long time before he answered her and when he did it was with the voice of a stranger – like Michael was taking a vacation from himself. "No, that was the night before. I asked for a cell reassignment and Bel-" Michael's head snapped up, as if he had suddenly realised something. "-And I guess T-Bag's cell was the only one free because I ended up in there that night."

"Why didn't you say anything? When I gave you your insulin shot that next day." Sara asked, pain in her voice. And disappointment that she hadn't noticed.

Michael didn't answer.

Obviously that was a sign of dismissal. Like saying this conversation is over. SO Sara sat up and told him she was angry that he had lied to her but she understood why. Apparently it had been discovered while he was in hospital that he was not and had never been a diabetic. She told him that – apart from injuries and check ups – they wouldn't be seeing each other again. Michael let a bitter smile slip past his mask and said "then I guess this is the end" while the voice inside his head whispered that she was abandoning him; just like his dad had, and his mom and Linc. Everyone left him in the end. He guessed he was just that type of person; worthless and unlovable.

He had no idea that when the guard came to march him back to his cell Sara's heart was breaking.

***


End file.
